


Bite Your Friend

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Frottage, Heavy Petting, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not exactly a surprise that with the right combination of substances and the handsiness all five of them share, they end up in the boat's cabin, down a narrow set of stairs into a tiny lounge with striped cushions and, much to their delight, something akin to a pullout bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Your Friend

**Author's Note:**

> One Direction got on a yacht in Miami and basically hung out smoking in their underwear, and then we wrote fic about it. In a world of porn, this is like the outtakes; the goofy dialogue bits where there's a lot of nudity but no actual sex. Well. Maybe a little. Title from Chocolate by The 1975, thanks to [this post](http://leavemealoneniall.tumblr.com/post/53160310498/elvenmuggle-but-yall-the-first-lines-of).

It’s not exactly a surprise that with the right combination of substances and the handsiness all five of them share, they end up in the boat's cabin, down a narrow set of stairs into a tiny lounge with striped cushions and, much to their delight, something akin to a pullout bed. ("Sweet," Louis had smirked, and promptly enlisted Liam's help in setting it up for the five of them to pile in, miles of tanned and burnt and tattooed skin and still-damp swim trunks and cotton briefs.)

"I like Miami," Harry drawls in between kisses to Niall's collarbone, licking at the sea salt taste of him. His voice is comically slow when he's blazed, even lazier than usual, his words sticking at the roof of his mouth. "'s been good to us."

Zayn pulls his mouth from Louis’ neck with a soft smacking sound, on the other side of the pull-out, and blinks his eyes open slowly. “Been good to you,” he says, “look’it you two.” 

Liam laughs from Louis’ opposite side, and Louis wriggles between them, makes a displeased sound at the fact that his partners in crime are momentarily distracted. He’s needy when he smokes, seeks attention even more brazenly than usual- and it doesn’t really mix with their short attention spans. It’s a trying life for Louis. Fortunately, Zayn gets a clue and nods to himself, flops half onto Louis’ chest to pepper kisses along his jaw, wet and with a hint of teeth.

“Have I like, tanned?” Niall asks, brows furrowed, fingers twisting Harry’s curls. “Always just burn, ‘s annoying.”

Humming, Liam reaches out to trace the freckly slope of his nose with a fingertip. He gets stuck running over Niall’s cupid’s bow with his fingers over and over again before he remembers to answer the question at all- “You’re toasty, Nialler,” he grins, and Harry snorts a laugh against Niall’s chest, echoes Liam’s _toasty_ with a giggle.

“You’re toast _ed_ ,” Louis huffs, and Zayn rolls his eyes at his pettiness, licks into his mouth. 

Harry bats Liam’s hand away after his finger stills in the bow of Niall’s lips. Niall grins at the both of them, raises the blunt that he’d snuck out of Liam’s free hand during the exchange. Groaning, Liam pokes out his lower lip and tries, too slow, to take it back, his fingers bumping Niall’s wrist instead and sliding off as Niall raises the joint to his lips. 

Ever the sweetheart, Zayn throws his lighter at Niall, and Harry flicks it, holds it for Niall to take a hit and then hand off the blunt. Liam misses it yet again- this time to Zayn, who puts it to his lips and sucks, cheeks hollowing. Awed and distracted himself, Louis traces one of Zayn’s cheekbones and shakes his hand as if he’d been cut, scrunching his nose and muttering, _sharp_.

Before Liam can protest, Niall cups the back of his neck and fits their mouths together, exhales the smoke as Liam inhales, making a broken sound at the back of his throat.

“I love you, lads,” Harry mumbles, dragging out the last word, and when Niall looks at him he snickers at the way Harry’s having trouble getting his pants past his knees. “Loads,” Harry adds, petting Liam’s head when he gives Harry a hand and doesn’t even flick the elastic waistband against Harry’s skin like Louis or Zayn would, just to be dicks. At the other side of the bed, Zayn’s giving Louis his hit- or a messy kiss, or a mix of both.

Niall ducks his head to lick at Harry’s nipples, one and then the other, sloppy and silly before he returns to the first, closes his mouth around the pebbled skin and sucks hard. They have a thing, all of them, with Harry’s nipples, playing with them until they go puffy and dark, obvious through Harry’s shirts. It’s even better when they know he won’t be wearing any. 

Louis’ been keeping his eyes open through his kiss with Zayn, and he makes an approving sound against Zayn’s mouth at Niall’s attention to Harry’s chest.

Figuring he’s already close enough, Liam starts kissing up Harry’s thighs. Harry’s cock is half hard against his tummy, filling out slowly, and he whines, reaches a hand out towards Zayn and Louis, wriggling his hips.

“Wazzit, Haz?” Zayn hums, slipping a hand into the back of Louis’ shorts to palm at his arse.

“Everyone got a hit,” Harry pouts. The way his lashes flutter as Liam reaches his hips adds to the effect, making him seem needier, and Zayn hands him the blunt, rolls himself and Louis over closer to the other boys so Louis and Harry are shoulder to shoulder, pinned to the bed by Niall and Zayn and Liam.

“Hi,” Louis smiles, head tipped to the side to watch Harry, and Harry loses about a third of his inhale smiling back at Louis goofily. The rest of it follows- right into Louis’ face- when Liam mouths at Harry’s cockhead, gives the slit a couple of flicks of his tongue.

“Less clothes,” Harry croaks, coughing, and Niall takes it as an order, shimmying out of his trunks and kicking them to the floor.

 Zayn inhales sharply, though he no longer has a joint, and when Louis looks at him, curiously, he laughs. If Louis gets needy on his high, Zayn gets quiet and watchful, and he’s staring blatantly now, eyes slowly raking down Niall’s body as he wriggles around on Harry’s hips. 

Zayn frowns when Louis pokes at him, still laughing, having made Liam look over to see what’s so funny, and bites at Louis’ chin in revenge, sliding his mouth over the bit of stubble that’s so quickly grown back after the close shaves they’d all endured for the photo shoot earlier in the week.

“Save me, Liam,” Louis squeaks, and Liam wedges himself in between him and Harry. The saving bit is forgotten in favor of tracing the tattoos on Zayn’s shoulders and collarbones with his fingertips and blunted nails, and Zayn’s attack is forgotten in favor of dissolving into the lazy touches. Louis goes still and quiet for the first time, half beneath each of them, and just watches. 

He can hear Harry and Niall even if he can’t see them, somewhere beyond Liam’s broad shoulders and Zayn’s hitched breaths, and if he closes his eyes he’s surrounded by the four of them still, four different pulses synching to his own, weaving them into a knot no one can untangle. Liam and Zayn gang up on him, eventually, and get him out of his clothes before discarding their own.

“Naked party,” Liam giggles, and Louis pets his hip, hauls Zayn back on top of him, straddling one of Louis’ thighs. 

Beside them, Harry groans- Niall’s perched on his hips, pressing his own down, their cocks bumping and rubbing together. “I think that means ‘s his favorite kind,” Niall supplies, breathy, and Harry nods in agreement. Before he can burn everything down, Liam takes the roach from Harry’s fingers and stubs it out, drops it on the floor and then just holds Harry’s hand, because it looks sort of lost and sad, scrabbling for something to grab.

“Excuse me, Liam,” Louis says, “You’ve forgotten someone.” 

Liam’s head whips back ‘round from where he’s gotten distracted with the way Harry’s fingers slide between his, and Louis jerks his head up at Zayn. Zayn flushes, obviously caught staring again, and shoves at Louis’ chest. 

“Hey,” Harry says, before they can start up again, “nobody’s kissing me.” The frown is evident in his voice, vowels drawn long out, and he’s squirming around beneath Niall and, partially, Liam. 

Louis shakes his head, staring at the ceiling with a look that’s probably supposed to be properly mournful. Sometimes he forgets that he wanted to do drama, but weed always reminds him. “That _is_ a pity, lads,” he says. “Somebody get on that would you?”

Niall’s closest- he flops down fully on top of Harry, Liam’s leg caught between theirs as they kiss breathlessly, loud enough that Louis and Zayn can hear the slide of their tongues without looking, that Louis knows Harry is licking just behind Niall’s bottom teeth. 

Liam can see it, and he shakes his head, rolls his hips down against Louis’ thigh as he watches. Zayn’s watching Liam, and he echoes the movement, and between them Louis feels appropriately paid attention to, enough that his cock jerks a little against his tummy, filled out and hard with the contact and the knowledge that they’ll all get off on this, one way or another. 

He pulls Zayn down to him with a hand around his neck, fingertips pressing into the tender spot at his nape, where the tattoo of the bird is dark against his skin, not yet tan from the Florida sun. “Hey,” he breathes, and Zayn smiles, goofy like he knows what Louis’ about to say before he says it. “Let’s get this party started.”


End file.
